Jewels From The Different Seasons

For three weeks I neglected the birdfeeder. But now, hanging heavy with seed it bobs in green-feathered pine like a buoy in evening waters waiting. I feel its rhythm bowing within me making supplication to the uninhabited air. In joyful swoop and staccato peck reckless white flashes spread, like glittering sun across the sea, and chickadees throng my birdfeeder in unrestrained forgiveness.